


In The Hospital

by NahaFlowers



Category: The Hour
Genre: Drabble Collection, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-24
Updated: 2017-12-24
Packaged: 2019-02-19 22:27:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 563
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13133502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NahaFlowers/pseuds/NahaFlowers
Summary: Drabbles crossposted from Tumblr





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> judasisgayriot asked for "quiet moment / ‘things we said without saying anything’" for bel/freddie

“I don’t- I don’t know how to do this.” Bel’s voice hitches on the second syllable of her sentence, and Freddie reaches out blindly for her hand.

He finds it, holds it, and she does not flinch away. That’s a start, he thinks. It’s a start.

They don’t say anything for the rest of her visit, but she doesn’t pull away either. Eventually, she whispers, “I have to go,” and leans over and kisses him on the cheek.

He squeezes her hand again, and she understands.  _Come back soon,_  he is saying. She will. She doesn’t know much beyond that, but she will.

For now, that’s enough.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> bisexualpirateheart asked for 'I thought you were dead' for bel/freddie.

Freddie is  _infuriatingly_  laid back when she goes to visit him, despite the bandage still around one eye and the scars and bruises his face and  _entire fucking body_  is covered with.

“Moneypenny!” Freddie cries, in greeting. Bel winces.

“ _Don’t call me that_ ,” she snaps. Before it was a mild annoyance, mostly; sometimes, a term of endearment. Now she can hardly bear it.

“Oh, come on, Moneypenny,” says Freddie teasingly, and she grits her teeth, avoids looking at him. “It was only a few scratches. And you got the show out, or so I hear.” He sounds proud.  _Bloody proud_. As if getting beaten half to death is  _nothing,_ as if it’s  _worth it_  for a bloody story.

“I thought you were dead!” And if it was any louder, it would be a scream. “They called me, and said you were on the lawn, and I ran out, and you lay there, bleeding, saying  _that stupid name_ , and then you stopped and  _I thought you were dead_.” There are tears in her eyes now, and she wipes them away, furious that he can be so calm when she is a second away from falling to pieces these days.

He looks a little chagrined now, but no less calm. “But I’m not,” he says simply, and Bel wants to hit him. She wonders for a moment, vindictively, if that would wipe the composure off his face, if that would remind him how close he had come. She forces herself to breathe, steadily, in and out, and  _God_  she had forgotten how  _infuriating_  a conscious Freddie was. How he tore her nerves to shreds.

“No,” she is forced to agree. “You’re not.”

Bel’s calm seems to give Freddie permission to show his true feelings, for he slumps into bed, in apparent relief, before a wave of pain rumples his face. “How bad was it?” he asks quietly.

“You were in a coma for two weeks,” Bel informs him, just as quietly, as if talking any louder will break the peace they seem to have come to. “The doctors weren’t sure you would make it.”

Freddie squeezes his eyes closed. “I’m sorry, Bel,” he says, and Bel feels all her previous anger seep out of her as he lies there, vulnerable and in pain. She takes his hand, strokes his thumb, and Freddie manages to open his eyes and look up at her. “But you know,” he says, gently, as if he doesn’t want to scare her, “I had to.”

Now it’s Bel’s turn to squeeze her eyes shut. It does scare her,  _he_ scares her, and she can’t hide that. But he wouldn’t be Freddie if he didn’t. “I know,” she says softly, and then words become superfluous.


End file.
